


The Wedding

by SPNash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dean in a Suit, Drinking, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Holding Hands, Hunting, Impala Sex, Jealous Dean Winchester, Love, Making Love, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Original Character(s), Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Romantic Fluff, Shower Sex, Sleeping in the Impala, Slow Dancing, Vaginal Fingering, Violence, Wedding, dean in a tuxedo, driving the impala, drunk, romantic smut, wedding ceremony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:05:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPNash/pseuds/SPNash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fanfic, I'd appreciate feedback! Thank you!</p><p>***tagging for eventual smut. Patience is a virtue.***</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, I'd appreciate feedback! Thank you!
> 
> ***tagging for eventual smut. Patience is a virtue.***

This was your sister’s wedding. You never imagined Dean would say yes when you asked him to attend with you. He didn’t even own dress clothes other than his fed suit, which he refused to wear. You rode into town with him to buy him something more suitable for the occasion.

 

You ran your fingers down the hangers as you walked by, trying to imagine what would bring out his sparkling green eyes. This was kind of exciting; getting to dress him. Dean didn’t like to give up control often, but clothing was something he had no idea about. 

 

Your maid of honor dress was black (your sister always did everything super formal) so you needed something that complimented it. A steel grey suit caught your eye. It was perfect. You shuffled through a couple of racks to find his size, letting out a small squeak when you found it. You wandered around and grabbed some black dress shoes, black belt, black dress shirt, and a black tie. You couldn’t wait to see him in this getup, it was so unlike him. After you checked out, you skipped back to the Impala with a huge grin.

 

“Well, someone looks excited. What took you so long? Did you make the suit yourself?” Dean joked.

 

“I had to make sure we match, Dean. It was a process.” You laughed as Dean put the car in drive, rumbling back toward the bunker.

 

“I have to try it on,  _ right  _ now?” Dean looked incredulously at you with wide eyes.

 

You didn’t give Dean a chance to walk in the door before you threw him the suit and accessories at him. “Yes, sir. I need to know if I’ll have to get it fitted an—“Dean interrupted you.

 

“Wait, fitted? I’ve never worn anything fitted in my life, sweetheart,” Dean remarked, standing up prouder after that statement, his face serious. You giggled at the masculinity oozing from him and he cracked a small smile, looking down.

 

“Put. It. On. Winchester. Or I will hurt you.” Playful fighting was the closest contact that you and Dean had been involved in regardless of how much you both wanted more. You ran at him and he started to run away. Jumping on his back piggyback style, he grabbed you where your thigh and butt meet, reaching his hands around himself. It could’ve been innocent enough but it made your heart speed up and you had to bite your lip to bring yourself back to reality.

 

“Y/N? Hello, Earth to Y/N…”

 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head to break up all the smutty thoughts going through your head.

 

“Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean –“

 

You interrupted him as he put you back down on the ground, “No, I’m fine, really, I just thought of something I need to do . I’ll be right back and you better ready to put on a fashion show for me or next time I will really hurt.” You quickly walked to your room and gave yourself a reality check.  _ This is a job. He is a hunter. You can’t have these feelings for someone who has no desire to settle down. This will only end badly for you _ . The tears filling your eyes now would only be a preview of what would come if you got involved with Dean Winchester.

 

You let yourself cry it out and seemingly with every tear that fell, your feelings for Dean faded. You splashed some water on your face, blew your nose, and tried to fix your makeup as best as possible before heading back out to the library room where you left Dean. You turned the corner to catch Dean facing away from you. He adjusted his collar as if it was choking him (it wasn’t), tapped his leather shoe, and shuffled the sides of his jacket. At first you thought he was just uncomfortable in the suit but you sat silently and observed him slowly transfer into something you never thought you’d see in your life. Dean Winchester was dancing. He had the tie you bought laid across his shoulders, probably because he couldn’t tie it himself, and he grabbed both ends of it and used it as a prop in little dance production. He rubbed it across his back like he was drying off from a shower and casually started whipping it around over his head.  You couldn’t help but smile and all those feelings you thought you had cried out built right back up in your swelling heart.  He dropped the tie to his side and straddled it, rubbing it front to back like a stripper with a boa. You had to interrupt this because you let out an audible laugh and he turned to you.

 

“I…. do NOT know… what to say.” You couldn’t stop laughing. His bright red face cracked a smile.

 

“I’m not embarrassed. I’m adorable.”

 

“You sure are. And the suit looks great. How does it feel?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s more comfortable than I thought. A more important question is, how did it look dancing? Because that’s all my drunk ass is going to do at this shindig.” He let out that small chuckle you love and sent a wink your way.

 

You had a love/hate relationship with that wink. It made your heart stop (which was an amazing feeling) and it completely distracted you from any reasonable thought (which was difficult during conversations). “I didn’t take you for a dancer. I didn’t know you could really dance to Bob Seger,” you joked.

 

“The man is legend, Y/N. Why is everyone being douchey about him lately?” He moved toward the record player in the room and started flipping through a milk crate of records. His face lit up as he pulled a record out, placing it on the player and dropping the needle down on it. A familiar tune started playing.

“Oh no, Don’t “Night Moves” me.” You shook your head playfully. “SAM!” You yelled down the hall towards his room.

Sam came sprinting into the room in mini panic. “What’s wrong?” He heard the song and groaned.

Dean started singing. “… Little too tall….” You and Sam collectively rolled your eyes. “Sorry, Sam. It was just too perfect to pass up,” you teased as you lightly tapped his shoulder with your fist.

 

“I can’t believe he told you about that. Pretty messed up, dude.”

 

“Oh, come on, Sammy. I didn’t tarnish your virgin image in the backseat of my baby. That was your own doing.”

 

“I was very stressed and… shut up.” Sam said, sitting down at the table.

 

Stopping the record, Dean said he was heading to his room to hang up the “monkey suit”. He could mock it all he wanted but you could tell Dean liked playing dress up. This left just you and Sam in the library together. You apologized for scaring him earlier and chit chatted for a little about some lore he had been reading for a possible case in Nebraska. “You know Dean is crazy about you, right? It was literally all he talked about the last trip and no offense, it drove me nuts.”

 

“No, he is not. He just brought home that bartender the other night. Remember? The one who was in my robe in the kitchen?” The thought of this lowered your feelings for Dean once again. The thought of him being with another girl was the only thing keeping you from kissing him every time you saw him.

 

“So get this,” He paused. “That girl was here with  _ me _ . Dean has this weird thing that you are attracted to me so he covered for me. He’s an idiot. Loyal, but still an idiot. I’ve tried telling him you like him too but he doesn’t believe it. Maybe at the wedding something will happen for you guys and I can start taking credit for my hookups again.” Sam laughed. He really was a beautiful guy. Kind. Gentle. Smart. But there was something off. He just wasn’t Dean. Sam was and always would be your friend.

 

“You let him take the fall for that? That’s cold, Sam. I’ve been kinda pissed about that if you didn’t notice. You are referring to the sticky notes that say ‘Y/N’s Property’ or ‘Do Not Touch, DEAN’ or “No WHORES allowed’ sign on various objects in your bathroom, of course.

 

“Yeah. I think we both got the hint. He was just looking out for me. But I don’t look at you like that. I tried telling him that before. He’s just stubborn. Self-conscious or something… I don’t know. He doesn’t really like girls that way usually so I think it’s hard for him to accept that you could actually become something.” You had to drop the subject. It couldn’t happen. Nothing could ever come it.  You filled him in on Dean’s dance moves earlier (to change the topic) and you both got a good laugh out of it.

 

“I didn’t even think about dancing or drinking for that matter. But it’ll be fine. We will have fun. I’ll be with him and we always seem to have fun. Are you sure you don’t wanna bring one of your one night stands to the wedding? I already told my sister you were coming….and bringing a date.” You snuck that last part in there. Your sister had met the boys when you all had passed through Florida tracking down a demon. She instantly fell in love with them and INSISTED they come to wedding.

 

“Y/N!” Sam whines. “I was gonna have the bunker to myself, and the books to myself, and the wi-fi to myself. And the hot water to myse-“

 

“OK, Sammy! You don’t have to come. I just figured you’d enjoy the food and free booze. And probably 50 to 60 desperate girls there who are only looking to fulfill their lonely desires through drunken sex… but nevermind. I just leave them all at Dean’s mercy.” You stood up to leave, giving Sam a wink.

 

“Fine. I’ll go. But no date. And I’m getting my own room. I literally cannot see Dean have sex one more time in my life before I have to have Cas burn my eyes out.”

 

“Awesome. Well, lace up your dancing shoes, Sammy, we are leaving in three days.” You ran to him and jumped at him for a hug. You wrapped your legs around him and you both laughed. You headed back to your room and started packing your bags for the weekend.

 

Little did you know, Dean was around the corner and caught a peek of you with your legs wrapped around Sam practically begging him to go the wedding as well. His stomach tightened. He clenched his fist, turned and huffed back to room, slamming the door. “Fuck this wedding, already, man.” Throwing himself down on the bed, he turned his head to the suit hanging in the closet and sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam find a hunt, leaving you to fly to the wedding alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments/critiques are welcome and MUCH appreciated.

Come to think of it, it had been a while since you’ve seen Dean. Usually he was digging through the fridge or drinking a beer with his feet kicked up on the library table but the last two days he had been kind of a ghost. You hadn’t really realized it until you wear lugging your heavy suitcase down the hall towards the garage. Normally, Dean would sweep in like the knight in shining armor and carry your bags for you but something had him extremely preoccupied. 

You all needed to leave in the next 3 or 4 hours to be on schedule.   
The trip to Saint Petersburg, Florida would take 23 hours give or take from the bunker. You and Sam had already planned a stop in Nashville, Tennessee which was about half way there so that you all could shower and sleep. The rehearsal dinner was Friday at 7pm. It was Wednesday 12pm, there was plenty of time but you knew there was always complications with these Winchester boys.

You paced around the Impala for what felt like hours but when you checked your phone it had been 12 minutes. 12 extremely anxious and excited minutes, passing with visions of what would happen in the next couple of days between you and Dean. A smile breaks over your face as the bunker door opens, Dean walking with a stern look. 

“Change of plans, me and Sam can’t go. Gotta case. We’ll get you over to the airport…” He coldly, casually states, turning his back, swinging open the door returning inside bunker. 

 

Normally, this would crush you. Normally, you would curl up in a ball and die. Normally, you’d pack your stuff, leave, and hide forever but not today. You had your toes done. You had your eyebrows perfectly, albeit painfully, shaped, plucked, waxed, and your hair was to die for. You never put any effort into your looks while you were working. It didn’t matter any you’d always covered in blood, mud, or goo somehow. All the pretty on the outside seemed to release all the crazy on the inside. 

You stormed toward the door, slamming it open. It hits the brick wall hard violently, echoing down the bunker’s halls. Dean hears this and backs up, leaning back to peak around the corner to see what caused the commotion. “What in the hell was that?” He huskily growls. 

“That was me expressing how shitty what you are doing to me is.” You’ve never spoken to Dean like this. “What has gotten into you lately? You’ve been MIA since you tried on the suit.”

“Nothing, Y/N. I’m fine. I always am.” He cockily winks. His cell phone rings and he answers. You hear him say something about “being in her neck of the woods in the next couple of days” and bids farewell to someone named “Misty”. 

  
Normally, you would cry. Normally, your heart would’ve stopped. Normally, you’d show everyone emotion that you felt but not today. You calmly but firmly push past Dean and head towards Sam’s room. You find him packing a duffle bag with spell books, ammo, knives, and other hunting essentials. 

“Sam, what’s this I hear about a case?” 

He seemed taken aback by your forwardness. “Dean insisted. He said that this could get us some more info on the Darkness. He seemed pretty sure about it.”

“Well, is ‘Misty’,” Using sarcastic air quotes, “a reliable source?” You stormed out of the room and headed to grab your laptop. You had a last minute plane ticket to buy.  Sam stood stunned and confused about what just happened. He just assumed you were stressed about seeing your family with how bad of terms you left on. He knew you tried to patch it up but it would be the first time you had actual seen them since they day you left to work with them 2 years ago. He shrugged his shoulders and continued packing his bag. 

Dean was also shocked when you essentially threw him into the wall after slamming the door open. He had got to you. He was secretly happy about it. Misty would be a good distraction for him while you were down schmoozing with your family and “daydreaming about Sam”. His stomach felt empty thinking about what he was going to miss out on: seeing you all dressed up, cheeks slightly flushed from the champagne, your bubbly smile as you heard you favorite on come on as you dragged him out to the dance floor. He actually thought about giving in for just split second, thinking about what he’d been waiting for the most: pulling you close as you slow dance for the first time.

After putting in one of your fake credit cards and buying your ticket you headed to Sam’s room again to tell him you needed to be at the airport in Lincoln by 5 for your 8:30 flight. From the bunker it was about 3 hour drive to Lincoln airport which was on the way to the hunt for boys in Stuart, Nebraska (about an hour outside of the airport). You planned it this way after overhearing Sammy mentioning this small town on the phone with another hunter and after you figured this is where they were going.

Three hours in the car with Dean. Three whole hours. 180 minutes of what was sure to be awkward silence and anger beams shooting into the back of his perfectly groomed head. But you were still feeling this new found confidence and weren’t going to let the boys know how much this bothered you. You let the anger go and went into super-duper, over the top, almost sickeningly, sweet mode. 

“Y/N, do you want anything?” Sam asks as he gets out of the Impala at the gas station.

“Oh no, nothing for little ol’ me, Sammy. Thanks you so much for asking though, Kitten.” You smirk your most sweet smile you can muster without seeming sarcastic. He looked puzzled but smiled back and walked inside. Dean was outside pumping gas but heard the exchange and mentioned something as he got back into the driver’s seat. “Kitten? What has gotten into you lately? You’re slamming doors. You’re pushing me around. You’re yelling at Sam. Are you upset about us not going with you?” 

You knew this was a baited question. He wanted you to admit that your heart was breaking and you would not let him see you like that. So you put on your happy voice again, “No, I’m just excited to see all my old friends and family. I was just stressed. No worries, sugar.” You say, pinching his cheek.

He pulled back from your hand with a look of disgust mixed with confusion. He turned and faced the front of the car and shaking his head as to make sense of what just happened. Sam slid back into the passenger seat and handed you a bag. “I knew you said you didn’t need anything but I got you a water and some gum. Cheaper here than the airport.”

“Well, aren’t you just a doll. Thank you, Samuel.” Samuel. You said it. You gave yourself away. The boys knew you were mad now. You spent the rest of the drive with your headphones in, iTunes blasting classic rock, so you didn’t cry, and trying to avoid Dean’s glances in the rearview. 

Sam whipped your bag out of the trunk and pulled out the pull handle for you. You grabbed it out of his hand and let it stand on its own as you wrap your arms around him for hug. He pulled you in tight and whispered apologizes in your ear for not being able to go and told you to be safe but to have some fun for once. You grabbed your bag and rolled it into the airport as the Impala rumbled off.

**[Cut to the boys in the Impala]**

“Dude, she was really pissed. She called me Samuel. She’s only done that once, and that was when she was possessed.” 

“Na, she’s a big girl, she’ll get over it. Plus, I thought you liked it when your girlfriends called you Samuel?” He winked a condescending wink that was loaded with frustration and jealousy. 

“Wow. You really are thick, Dean. Y/N is into you. Y-O-U. Not me. She’s my friend. In fact, she’s been a better friend to me lately than you have. And you got her pissed at me because of this stupid hunt which is probably nothing.” Sam argued.

“Probably nothing? There’s been lightning storms and… a mysterious death.”

“Lightning storms? It rained there 3 days ago. It’s been 70 and sunny since then. And mysterious death? It was 89 year old lady who feel down her stairs. No mystery. She lived alone. What is really going on here, Dean? I swear if you pulled me away from a chance at some actual fun for once I’m going to be really pissed.” Sam had been researching the new hunt after dropping you off at the airport and was starting to put the pieces together that there wasn’t a case after all.

“Well… it’s worth checking out for a night. It’s only a 3 hour drive to the bunker…” he trailed off as he pictured you sitting by yourself with your headphones in, softly mouthing the words of some classic rock song that you both probably loved. A sweep of guilt feel over him again and he considered u-turning until Sam spoke up.

“Why can’t you accept that she likes you? She probably loves you but you’re an idiot.” 

“Oh, I’m an idiot?” Dean challenged. Sam knew Dean would’ve smacked him if he wasn’t driving. 

“If you can’t see how upset you made Y/N, then, yes, you’re absolutely an idiot.” Sam stuck to his guns because he felt your sadness in that hug you shared at the airport. He felt like you wanted to just pick him up and carry him with you to Florida. 

“She can’t like me, Sammy. I’m not right. I’m five kinds of fucked up and I can’t possibly deserve a girl who I can actually stand to be around for more than one day. I mean, damn it, Sam, she cleans the car without asking me. She folds my clothes when I leave the in the dryer, even my boxers. She cooks like a she should weigh 900 pounds.” He thought back to all the times he already felt like he was dating you. 

The time you guys stayed up for 24 hours listening to classic rock vinyl’s and drinking scotch. The time a bat flew out of the dungeon and into the shower, when you came screaming into his room clutching his hips as you hid behind him. The time you went a hunt and got lost in the woods for a couple hours and you never panicked because you trusted Dean. _‘How could I not see this?_ ’ He thought to himself.

“Oh god. What am I doing? She likes Seger, man. She didn’t try to fuck me on day one like pretty much every other girl we’ve hunted with. Holy shit, we have to go to that wedding.” Dean slams on the brakes and whips the Impala around back toward the airport, hoping that they’d get there before you left. 

Sam remembers something important. “Y/N knows about Misty by the way.” 

“Shit.” Deans groans and slams the pedal to the floor. 


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make it to Florida, as the boys have a minor detour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated and welcomed! Thank you!

The airport speaker mumbled some Homeland Security Advisory message for the 40th time since you’ve been there. You arrived at your gate way too early. Your flight number wasn’t even on the gate sign yet. It was still showing a flight to Sacramento leaving at 7:30. You couldn’t help but to fidget in your seat. You had so many emotions running through you that you just wanted to sleep but you still had a lot of traveling to do. You picked up your phone and started browsing through Facebook. A lot of your old friends are posting on your sister’s wall about the wedding and you start skimming through some of the comments. All these people from your past, judging you because your little sister was married first. 

S/N was always the pretty one. She was feminine. She was graceful. She didn’t have the overwhelming interest in weaponry that you did. She was the cheerleader. Everyone loved her and she treated everyone like they were her best friends because she was genuinely nice. She was basically your polar opposite. She liked expensive things. Her wedding was expected to have 500 people. It was at the most expensive manor home in Florida. It was a 1,000 acre property that had a 15 bedroom mansion, 12 floral gardens, a plaza size fountain, 10 guest cottages (that were tucked away inside some of the gardens), and those were just the things your sister could get out in one breath whilst describing the place. 

You hadn’t told Sam and Dean about many details of your family. Like the fact that your dad was a slightly famous actor. Or that you mom was a swimsuit model at 18. Or that you didn’t fit in with one person in the entirety of your family except for your sister. S/N was marrying a man named Tom. He was a doctor or a surgeon, or something medical. You couldn’t ever remember. He was a nice enough guy. Your sister seemed happy and you weren’t one to spoil that, but this wedding was extravagant. Dean had to help you hustle pool just to pay for your $3,000 bridesmaid dress. You used fake credit cards to buy shoes, jewelry, and a clutch to match. Hunting was a rewarding career, just not in a fiscal sense. 

Your father had rented the whole estate for the entire weekend. You, Dean, Sam, and Sam’s (imaginary) date would share one of the beautiful garden cabins. You had spent hours looking at them online imagining how romantic the setting would be to be with Dean. The thought frustrated you, tossing your phone down on the seat next to you. Lifting your head up and looking around you noticed your flight is boarding. _How long did I just Facebook stalk people for?_ You think quietly to yourself. 

You grab your phone and turn it off, throw it in your bag, give the attendant your ticket, and take your seat.

[ **Flash to boys in the Impala** ]

“It says that her flight is boarding, Dean. We aren’t gonna make it there.”

“Do you have the wedding location’s address?” Dean asks sharply.

“No, dude. Y/N had all that stuff with her. This is what happens when we don’t have a plan.” Sam huffs. “We have to go to the bunker. I don’t have my suit. Or my bathing suit. Or my flip flops.” 

“Flip flops? No. The bunker is 3 hours in the opposite direction, Sam. I’ll buy you anything you need when we get there.”

“Y/N is gonna be pissed that you didn’t wear the suit she picked out for you. She bragged about that thing for days.”

“Look under the backseat.” Dean had stashed the suit you picked out for him under the seat as if he knew he’d crack. “Always be prepared, Samuel.” He pressed the pedal down a little harder and Baby’s engines let out a little roar, picking up speed toward the Sunshine State. Dean couldn’t help but to glance up in the sky every time he saw a plane and wonder if it was yours. His heart sank thinking of how much fun you, him, and Sam could’ve had on this road trip. 

Now, instead of stopping at stupid roadside attractions, he and Sam were making 2 minute pit stops, stopping just long enough to gas up, pee, and switch seats. He was a man on a mission.

[Flash to Reader landing at Tampa International Airport (outside of Saint Pete)]

 It was a very uneventful flight. Besides the obnoxiously loud talker behind, who refused to let anyone on the place sleep, it was an easy flight. You were exhausted. You slugged down to baggage claim and pulled your heavy bag off the carousel. Your sister had a driver pick you up because everyone was already checking into the estate and there was welcome get-together happening. You walked down to pick up and see the short balding man holding Y/N L/N sign. You followed him outside into the warm air to a shining black luxury car. He opened the back door for you and took your luggage. He called you ma’am every time he did something for you and you had him to quit because it made you feel old. _My mother is a ma’am, damnit_. You pressed your head onto the glass and tried to relax. “ _The boys_!” you thought to yourself. You hadn’t even checked in with Sam. You tried turning on your phone but the battery must’ve been dead. You’d charge it in your cottage, settling back into the window. Your driver finally reached your destination, a beautiful (and gigantic) plantation home. 

You rolled your eyes at the formality of this event. This was definitely not your scene and you kind of glad that the boys wouldn’t be there to see how gaudy it all was. They weren’t black tie affair kind of guys. I mean, they were classy enough to be there, they were just down to earth, easy going guys. They didn’t need tuxedos and champagne to be interesting. In fact, some you all best nights were in PJ’s with some beers watching old movies. 

An event coordinator led you to your cottage. It was amazing. It looked like it was from a fairytale. It has yellow siding and a white wooden roof. They are flower boxes under all the windows that look out to the lush gardens surrounding it. You open the front door and roll your bag inside. You take a deep breath as you spot the open door with a bed behind it. You kicked off your boots and pants, slid your bra off from underneath your sweatshirt and collapsed on the bed. You fell asleep almost immediately.

[ **Back to the Impala** ]

Dean’s eye shot open. It was light out. “What time is it?” His voice slightly more hoarse than normal after sleep. 

Sam clicked on his phone “it’s 8:37.” 

“Any word from Y/N yet?”

  
“Not yet. I’ve called her like 8 times I think. Her phone is off. She must be pretty pissed. I Facebooked her sister and she said she made it there late last night and she’d have her call me when she got up. So, any time now probably.” Sam was concerned when he didn’t hear from you. He didn’t want Dean to worry so he went to your sister to check on you. “I’m wrecked Dean. Let’s switch.”

The boys pull over at the next gas station and Sam comes back to the car with this face buried in a newspaper. “There have been 5 strange deaths here in the past 2 weeks. A lady hanged herself in a closet that locked from the outside. A couple were chained up and found dead in their own basement. Two college kids were found with their throats cut on the side of a highway after posting they picked up a hitchhiker on the highway… And another man killed himself with a chainsaw. What in the hell are we dealing with here?”

“Damn it, Sam. We can’t work a case. I need to do this before it’s too late.”

“It’ll be a milk run. I’m thinking demon. The police station just around the corner from here. It couldn’t hurt to ask questions, could it?”

Dean begrudgingly agreed, slamming the pedal to floor of Impala burning out toward the police station and away from you. 

Dean awoke again, this time his vision is blurry and his head is pounding. Where was Sam? He thought. “Sammy?” He yelled.

The last thing he remembered was checking an old cabin on the outskirts of town. He kicked open the door, gun drawn, Sam followed in quickly behind him. The door slammed shut on its own and Dean was flung across the room into wall head first. 

Sam’s gun laid on the floor close to Dean. “Sammy?” He yelled again, starting to panic. He grabbed both guns and started slamming open every door he saw until he reached one that was locked. “Sam, are you in there?” 

Dean stepped back and shot the door handle breaking it off. In the middle of the room sat Sam, passed out with head slumped down to his chest, tied to a chair. “Sam, Sam” He smacks his face “Listen to me. Wake up, Sam.” Sam’s eye slightly cracked open and he whispered “Dean?”

Dean pulled out his knife and cut Sam free. “What are we dealing with?” He asks.   


“Ugh. I’m not sure. He had demon eyes but he also had…. Vamp teeth.”  


“Ah, a… dempire? No, a vamon? Dempire is better. Anyway, how do we gank this dick?” Dean helped his brother off the floor and handed him his gun. 

“I think I have a plan.” Sam looked a Dean with his forehead wrinkled in thought.

After setting up the devil’s trap, position weaponry around the room, and finding a hiding spot for himself, Dean loosely ties Sam back to the chair and retreats to the small linen closet in the attached bathroom. The next part was the hard part: waiting for it to come back.

Dean’s head was bobbing from exhaustion. According to his phone it had been 12 hours. It was dark out. He whispers out to Sam “Sam. We gotta get out of here. It ain’t coming back.”

“Oh, how wrong you are sweetheart.” A female voices taunts. Dean rushed out of the closet to see a dark hair woman with a knife to Sammy’s neck. Dean gives Sam the go ahead and he broke free of the rope, disarming the woman, and left the circle they wrote on the ceiling. 

“Ok. Now you listen to me. I have a very important thing to get to and I lost my patience for you about 11 hours ago in that closet. So, you’re going to tell me exactly how many more of you there are and where I can find them.” Dean demands.

“Like, I’m going to tell you where my family is. So you can go kill all of them? I can’t tell if you are crazier or dumber than you look.” She sasses back. “She lunges toward Dean but gets pulled back by the Devil’s trap. She looks up and growls in frustration. “Let me out of here. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. We are –“ Dean steps into the trap and cuts her head off mid-sentence. 

Sam looks frustrated and Dean explains “I told her he was losing my patience”. The boys turned to leave, deciding to stop back here on the way home with you.

“Check in on Y/N again. I don’t like that we haven’t heard from her.”  Dean’s face looks disheartened. He knew how bad he fucked up this time.

[ **Back to you in the Cottage** ]

You snapped your eyes open. You had literally fell onto the bed face first and passed out. _What time is it_? _Why didn’t I charge my phone?_ _Wait…. Where am I?_ Your mind was racing. It had been a long time that you’d woken up alone in strange place. Usually Dean’s snoring or Sam clanging around at 5am before a jogs, woke you up in the motel rooms. Even at the bunker someone would knock on your door at some ungodly hour to ask you a question or to rush you to get ready for a hunt. 

You dug through your bag and plugged your phone in but still don’t turn it on. _It charges faster that way._ You shuffled your feet into the kitchen and opened the fridge. This cottage was incredible. It was literally a small two bedroom apartment surrounded by a breathtaking garden. The fridge was stocked with fresh vegetables, juices, sodas, waters, and your favorite beer. You grabbed a can of beer, as you noticed it was 3pm, and what the hell, you were on vacation. You caught a glimpse of small bar cart across the room with two glass tumblers and a decanter filled with what you were sure was an excellent whiskey. Your heart sunk again. You could’ve been sitting on that leather couch with your legs across Dean’s lap, sipping whiskey, and making out. 

A loud knocking on the door snapped you back into reality and you opened the door only slightly (you weren’t wearing pants) to a handsome man you’d never seen before. “Hello, Y/N. I’m Max, Tom’s friend, I’m the best man and since you’re the maid of honor, I figured we should get together about the bachelor/bacherlorette party tonight. Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Sure. Um, just give me one minute.” You softly closed the door and ran to the bedroom. You grabbed the pants from yesterday that were still balled up on the floor and jump-squeeze back into them. You rushed back towards the door but catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror hanging in the hall and decided that Max could wait another minute for you to fix your face. You had mascara raccooning around your eyes and your hair was out of control. You got yourself together and invited him in.

“Sorry, I had a late, late flight last night.” You said as your kicked your bra under the couch. Luckily you had a sweatshirt on or you would’ve needed that thing. 

“Starting early, I see?” Max jokes as he spots the beer can on the side table. His blue eyes sparkled below a gorgeous head of perfectly styled raven hair. You realize your staring at his rigid jawbone and forgot how to put together a logical sentence. “…Yeah… I can explain—“ 

“No need. Mind if I bum one?” He walked casually over to your fridge and pulled out a beer. He popped the top and took a sip, letting out a refreshed “Ahhh.”  
He turned you, giving you a small smile. “So let’s talk about this party tonight, beautiful.”

You heart sped up at that word: beautiful. It sounded so sexual coming out of his mouth. You realized you were in trouble. Wait, who were the Winchester’s again?


	4. The Wedding: Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is on. Bachelorette/Bachelor Party time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to add a couple more chapters this evening. Sorry it took so long!

You had a short conversation with the handsome stranger in your cottage. He told you they put up a tent for the reception and that you’d be having the rehearsal dinner and bachelor/bachelorette in there. He had hired a DJ, dancers, and bartenders for the event. When you insisted on paying half he resisted and said he could afford it. 

“Ok fine, money bags. I’ll just have to return the favor tonight. I’ll be the hostess. It’ll be fun.

"Or you could make it up me a different way…” His voice sounded so serious but flirty. It was difficult to not smile. You must’ve blushed because he immediately said, “No, no, not like that. I meant by going with me to pick up the tuxes from the tailor. I don’t really know the area and your sister said you were from around here.”

“Oh yeah, sure, no problem. Can you give an hour to shower and get changed?” Trying not to seem too eager.

“Absolutely, take all the time you need. Give me your number and I’ll text you.”  You give him your number and follow him to the door. “See you soon.” He says winking as he turns to walk away. You stand with your back pressed up against the door, your knees weak from the excitement you felt. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad without Dean. 

“Oh shit. Dean. Sam. They were probably freaking out.” You think to yourself. You sprint to your bedroom and turn on your cell. It takes a minute to boot up. 

“Come on you piece of shit. Turn on. TURN ON.” And it finally clicks on. Sam had called you 22 times. Sam texted you 10 times. Not a single notification from Dean. You scroll to Sam in your contact list and hit call.

“Sam. Hi. Sorry my phone was dead and I zonked out last night when I got in. Are you guys ok?” You spoke so quickly it caught Sam off guard.

“Y/N, we’re fine. It’s ok. I understand. Just wanted to make sure you made it, you know how Dean is about flying. How is everything going?”

“It’s good. I’m actually about to run some errands with sexy ass best man, so I’ve got that going for me. But yeah it’s beautiful here. Wish you could see it.” You brag.

“Wow. You work fast. You’ve been there 12 hours and you’re already going on a date. Impressive.”

“It’s not a date. He’s way out of my league anyway. But, it’s not a date so yeah. But if Dean asks it is a date. Because he’s a douche and I hope Misty was a lousy lay.” You snarl. You two chit chat about the party that evening and about the hunt they were on.

“Did you guys wrap up there?” You ask.

“Yeah. I’ll fill you in on details later. I’ve gotta go meet Dean at the car.” You both say your goodbyes and hang up. It was good hearing a familiar voice but you needed to shower and get ready for your “not-date”.

******flash to boys on the road******

Sam didn’t dare tell Dean that you called. He definitely didn’t tell him that you were going out with another guy. He had never seen Dean light up the way he did around you. This was a different Dean on this road trip with him. A Dean that envisioned a future, a Dean that could have a normal life, and he wasn’t going to spoil his big shot by telling him he already missed his chance.

“Y/N texted, by the way. She said her phone died and she passed out in her room when she got there before she could charge it” Sam lied.

“Oh yeah? What else did she say? You didn’t tell her we were coming did you?” Dean sounded nervous. Unlike himself.

“No, I didn’t tell her. She’s getting ready for the bachelorette party tonight. They’re doing a shared party on the estate where the wedding is gonna be. She seemed like she was in a better mood.” Sam chose his words carefully making sure not say anything to make Dean curious.

“Did she say anything about me?”

“No, Dean. Not every conversation I have my best friend is about you.”

“Well, looks like we’re going to a party tonight. We’ll be at the estate in 5 hours.” Says Dean.

Sam couldn’t help but worry. Dean was going to be crushed when he saw you with another guy. He tried to put it out of his mind. He put in his headphones and laid his back. He was going to drink tonight.

*****back to you in cottage*****

You had showered and put on a casual pink sundress. It was a spaghetti strapped and it accentuated your toned shoulders perfectly. Not to mention it gave you just the right amount of classy cleavage. You blow dried your hair out straight and put on a basic face of simple makeup. You would save the fancy hair and sexy makeup for tonight. It was 4:30. You only have 3 and half hours until the rehearsal dinner started so you texted Max with a simple “ready” text. Within 5 minutes he was knocking on your door and explaining that his cottage was the next one over, about 100 yards away.

He looks like a J.Crew model in his khaki shorts and navy polo. He definitely worked out as the sleeves of his shirt looked like they would rip if he flexed his bicep. His calves were tan and toned. His dark hair was again perfectly shaped and his stubble was ruggedly sexy. You stop admiring him long enough to hear him ask “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s go.” Grabbing your phone, purse, and sunglasses you head toward the parking lot. “I didn’t even think about calling the driver. Give me a minute.” You reach for the card the driver have you last night but Max stops you.

“I drove here from Miami. I’m not much of a flyer.” And for a brief second Max’s dark hair faded into dirty blonde, his blue eyes into beautiful green, and his polo into a worn leather jacket. You shook your head. Expelling all thoughts of Dean.

An expensive sports car roars up next to the curb; black, two doors, extremely well maintained. 

“Your keys, Mr. Huntington.” The valet mentions, opening and closing your door behind you. This was the cleanest car you had ever been in and it didn’t sit well with you. You were to clumsy to be allowed in this things this nice.

“Well, aren’t we mister money bags.” You had to say something. Just sitting there with your mouth open would’ve been more awkward than you already felt.

“I’m a doctor. Tom and I are opening a practice. Business is good.” He clutched the steering with both hands and rings them around the leather. “Business has been very good. I love my baby.” He pushes in the clutch and puts it in gear. 

“My baby” echoes in your ear until you hear them in Dean's voice.

It was like he was haunting you. This guy couldn’t be anything less like Dean and yet he kept reminding you of him. Max was a perfect gentleman the whole trip. You got the suits, a quick snack from a yogurt place, and headed back to the estate. By the time you got back it was almost 7:30. Just enough time to get ready and head down to the festivities. Max pulls the car up to the curb, hops out and jogs around to open the door and help you out. You notice him casually checking out your legs when you swing them around to get out. This was the first I non gentlemanly thing he’d done since he met you. You grab the hand he offered and pull yourself out of the car. You expect him to let but instead he laces his fingers into yours and leads you toward the gardens.

*****flash to boys*****

What you hadn’t seen was the Impala pulling in behind you. You hadn’t seen Dean’s face when another guy grabbed your hand. You hadn’t seen Dean completely crushed.

“Who the fuck is that? She’s been here one day and she’s getting out of Porsches’ and holding hands with a guy WEARING SHORTS.” He yells and punches the roof of the car. He would later apologize to Baby but he was too angry to think.

"Dean, calm down. Remember, she invited you to this but you went all nutjob on her and canceled. She doesn’t even know you're here. She probably thinks you're in some dirty motel room doing body shots off of ‘Misty’ ” Sam explains trying to calm Dean down. “Let’s get our bags. We’ll talk to her in the room.”

They boys get out, go to the front desk and are led to the cottage they’ll be sharing with you. As they are walking Sam’s phone rings so he lags behind to chat. Dean knocks on the cottage door.

You answer, not even thinking to look at who's there “Max, I said 15 minut— oh my god, Dean? How are you? Why are you? What the fuck.” You punch him in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Well, one, ouch.” Looking down at his arm. “And two, you never called  _ me _ .” Dean sneers, pushing past you and into the living room. 

“Well, I figured you were busy filling up on whiskey with "Misty” and I didn’t want to bug you.“ Two could play at the sass game. 

"Don’t use the judging voice. I saw your in the parking lot with Mr. Tight Shorts. What was it, the nice car or the Rolex that caught your eye? Seem like you're doing mighty fine down here, Y/N”

“Listen, Dickhead. He’s a nice guy. He held my hand. Grow up, Dean. I can’t spend my life waiting for you to fucking kiss me.”

And just as he went to answer Sam walked in and ran over to hug you. He picked you and spun you around. It was difficult to stay angry when a giant was swinging you like a child.

You show them to their room and continue getting dressed. Now you had extra motivation to look super hot. You mention to Max, via text, that your friends had came into town by surprise and he invited them to the bachelor party.

You knock on the boys door to tell them the plans. “Well, Max seems like a swell guy. Does Gatsby plan on swinging by or are we meeting them there?” Dean mocked.

“He’ll be here in 10 or so. I’ve gotta get ready.” Rushing out of the room.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want lover boy seeing you without makeup on!” Dean yells as you rush away, slamming the bedroom door behind you.

You slip into a burgundy cocktail dress; form fitting lace, a dangerously short hemline. The cap sleeves sit gently on your shoulder, your cleavage this time is less than classy. The dark lace makes your tan pop and thins you nicely.

You take a curling wand to your hair and create large beachy curls around your face. They add the perfect volume to your hair. The boys had never seen your hair this big. You finished your smokey eye, and add on some dark berry pink lipstick and gloss. You head to your room to check yourself out in the full length mirror and to put your shoes on.

You’re sitting on the bed in front of the mirror fastening on of your heels when you hear a knock on the door. Dean quickly, as if he was standing waiting for it, yells “I’ll get it!” And opens the door.

“Hey, man. I’m Max. It’s nice to meet you.” He said politely reaching his hand out to shake Deans. Dean roughly shakes his head and says very abruptly “Dean” points to Sam “Sam, it’s a pleasure.”

Sam steps in, “Don’t mind him. We had a long trip. He just needs a drink in him. Thank you for inviting us, by the way.”

“Hey, yeah, no worries. It’s gonna be a big thing you guys should have fun. Is Y/N almost ready? We have the rehearsal dinner and then we’ll be back to get you guys.” Max asked.

The door to your room was cracked as Sam pushes through just in time to see you stand up after putting on your second shoe for a final look in the mirror. “Oh wow. You look amazing, Y/N.” 

“Um, Sam. Stop staring at me. I’m uncomfortable as it is.” You scowl, awkwardly adjusting your bra’s underwire.

“No, no. You really look, different. In a good way. Not that you look bad normally but you look — hot.” Sam rambled. “Oh yeah, Max is here to take you to the dinner thing.” He turns and walks out to the living room, turning at the last second to sneak one more peak of you.

“Ok, I’m ready.” You take a deep breath before stepping through the doorway into the living room. All three guys stop talking and look up at you. It’s a minute before anyone says anything. The only sound are your heels clicking on the wood floor as you walk towards Dean.

Dean slowly checks you out from head to toe. You make sure to walk with a little swagger as you get closer to him. You wanted him to drool over you. Your purse is on the table beside him so you make sure to bend down and collect it very slowly, giving him a long show of your push up bra cleavage.

“Oh shoot, my phone.” You proclaim, slinking across the room to collect your phone, purposefully facing away from the guys. You scroll through your phone momentarily, giving them all a chance to admire how perfect the dress clinged to your backside. 

Max is the first guy to speak up, “Wow you look…great”

“Aw thank you, you don’t look too shabby yourself. I love a man who can rock a nice suit.” Another shot towards Dean, who couldn’t stand wearing suits. Max steps forward and offers his arm. You take it and wrap both your arms tightly around his. You say your farewells and move Max’s arm down to your ass you walk out the door, lacing your arm around his back.

Dean was so angry, he was speechless. All he could do was lift the blind and watch as you walked down the cobblestone path attached to a handsome stranger.

He paced the whole time you were gone. The boys put on suits that they bought on the way in and waited for you to return. You stumbled in a little tipsy from the dinner wine and sat on the couch next to Sammy who was, of course, on the computer researching. Wine always made you flirty and you had two attractive men in your midst. You weren’t drunk enough to forget about how Dean treated you, so Sam would be your unwilling target.

“Sammy, can you help me with my heels?” Sexily lifting your legs up and slipping them across his lap. “I need to adjust the straps. They’re too tight.” He laughs,  shaking his head as he helps you with the tiny, silver clasps.

Dean pretends not to notice, leaned on the island, scrolling endlessly through his phone. 

“Thank you, Sammy. You always were the helpful one.”

Shakily stand up again, prowling across the room towards Dean. “My dad said this dress was too tight.” You place your back against the kitchen island next to the older brother. “Do you think it’s too tight, Dean?” You let his name roll out of your mouth like a slight moan. 

Biting his bottom lip, a quick flick on the tongue to wet his perfect lips, Dean replies. “No, sweetheart, I think you look like the classiest prostitute ever.” He growls, trying desperately to conceal his lust.

“Now, is that how we talk to a lady?” Max’s voice rings out from behind Dean. He laughs. “Are you ready guys?”

You all head out to the party tent located toward the front of the estate grounds. Dean immediately heads toward the bar and chats up the cute girl working behind it. Max walks over to a bunch of his friends, waving you and Sam over. After you are introduced and the awkward small talk was out of the way you and Sam steal away to a small table. He orders you two drinks and the cute bartender walks them over to deliver them, Dean blatantly staring at her ass the entire way.

“Sam I need to be drunk. I need to be drunk so I won’t have to hear your brother have sex with that girl tonight.”

“Yeah, he does have her on his radar already, doesn’t he?” He signals for two more and pounds his drink.

You follow suit, gulp down your drink, and take another deep breath. “Sorry, Sam. Gotta go.” Walking over to Max, you slide down onto his lap, meeting angry eyes with Dean. 

Game on, Dean, game on. 

 


	5. The Wedding: Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Bachelorette/bachelor party. SOMETHING CUTE HAPPENS!

What were you doing? Up until the second Max knocked on your door all you ever wanted was Dean. As your eyes met across the room, you thought for a second you sensed a little pain mixed into his death stare, but he quickly breaks eye contact, turning his attention back to his newest target, the slutty bartender.

“Whoa, Y/N, what’s gotten into you?” Max is caught of guard with your sudden forwardness. Earlier you were shy about holding hands in private and now you’re basically straddling him in front of everyone at the party. 

“Nothing. You’re just so sexy.” You flirt, running  your hands playfully through his hair. Making sure Dean is watching you lay a passionate kiss onto Max’s unexpecting lips. He laughs into your mouth and grabs the back of your head as his tongue meets yours. Max knew what you were doing. Dean hadn’t been a dick because he didn’t like him, he was a dick because he liked you, so that made him the enemy.

Normally kissing someone would make you excited and it had been a long time since you’d been kissed, but this time was different. You didn’t get that dizzy, warm, apple pie feeling from kissing Max, in fact it was kinda sad. You were deliberately hurting the man you loved. This was the first time you let yourself accept it. You loved Dean Winchester. Loved him. Your heart sinks as you watch him lead the bartender onto the dance floor.

_ You need to harden the fuck up, Y/N. You are a hunter. You kill monsters for a living. You’re not going to let some Abercrombie model looking, dick wad make you hurt. Turn off the feelings. You have a sexy man with his hand dangerously placed on your thigh. You move a mere inch and his finger is meeting a-whole-nother side of you. _

You watch as the slutty bartender grinds on Dean who is essentially standing on the dance floor casually sipping his beer and feeling up his dance partner. You can’t help but watch him, occasionally catching him looking around for you a couple times, as well.

The slutty bartender suited Dean well. She was attractive. Low self-esteem (probably daddy issues), back tattoo, unreasonably low cut jeans. Would fuck him on the first night and wouldn’t expect anything tomorrow. Classic one night stand material. Usually this turned Dean on, the thought of no commitment. But tonight, it was different, almost sad. He was blatantly hurting you, the first girl he truly loved.

“Let’s dance.” You demand, pulling Max out of his chair and onto the opposite side of the dance floor of Dean and his gyrating partner. There were probably 150 people at this event. The Dj had just started playing the real dance music so the floor was getting packed. The moment you started to lose sight of Dean, you start spinning and pulling Max around until you get a better sight line. You hadn’t noticed Dean doing the same thing. You turn to check on him and you bump into the slutty bartender.

She loses her balance and falls to the floor. You try to help her up but she pushes your hand away and says “I don’t need your fucking help. Watch where you’re going, Fatass.” You feel a rage building in you. The rage you feel when you’re about to cut off a vamp head or put a silver bullet into a werewolf, the rage to kill (or at least fight in this case). Dean steps back from his partner, giving you a shoulder shrug and nod combo; giving you the go ahead to beat this bitch’s ass.

You don’t say a word. You swiftly grab her arm, twist it around her body, and lead her back to the bar. You slam her head down on the bar and whisper into her ear “Now, you listen to me, you fucking twig. I know more the ten ways to kill you right now and that’s without a weapon. Say one more word to me or my friend and I’ll snap you in half.” Giving her a gentle tap on the ass as you walk away back towards Max Who looks humiliated.

“How do you know how to do that?” He asks but doesn’t really want an answer. A ‘What kind of man would want a woman that could kick his ass’ look cracks across his face.

“Long story. Do you wanna get out of here?” You glance towards Dean who is standing alone on the dance floor now. Max hesitates and starts fumbling for a polite way to say no. “You know, don’t worry about it. See you later.” Storming out of the tent into the garden towards your cottage, you feel a hand on your arm. 

You turn to find Dean, of course, behind you. “I’m sorry I “Fight Clubbed” your date.” You apologize, not really sure why you felt like crying.

“Yeah, that was….. awesome. You’re awesome. What happened to the monopoly man?” He was of referring to Max and he flashes you a slanted smile that made the creases in the side of his eyes show.

 

“Um… He wanted to stay with his friends so, yeah. He said he was tired and we’d meet up later or something.” You lied.

"Wow. You’re a horrible liar.“ He laughs again. “He was terrified that you could kick his ass, wasn’t he?”

You can’t help but laugh with him as you nod, because you were, in fact, a horrible liar. You lied to yourself about Max replacing Dean. You lied to yourself when you thought you could be classy for one night. You lied to yourself when you thought you’d could ever be with anyone but Dean.

"Listen,” he licks his lips softly, “I’m sorry I was such a douche back at the bunker. You gotta understand that I’m fucked up. I'm not a whole person anymore. This job,” He takes a tired breath, “has taken pieces of me that I’ll never get back. I have trouble trusting anyone but Sam. And even then, I still have delusions he’s banging you. That’s how insane I am. So, you gotta believe me when I say that I’m absolutely crazy about you. You look so beautiful tonight it physically hurts me.”

He grips your chin, putting all of fingers under it except this thumb, which he gently rubs side to side.  You drop your eyes and smile shyly.

He seems to study you. His eyes softening and soaking in every detail of your face. He slowly releases your chin, slightly grazing your neck and collarbone before withdrawing his hand back to his side. He finally speaks, “I know I told you this already but you look so beautiful. And it’s not because of the makeup or hair or fancy clothes. Your smile is brighter. Your eyes sparkle. You just seem to really glow. Being with here really suits you.”

You couldn’t think of what to say to that. It was the most romantic, genuine thing anyone had ever said to you. You were sure you were blushing so you tried to avoid looking right at him.

Before you could think of anything to say he speaks again in a tone so soft and kind you wouldn’t think it was Dean if he didn’t still have that husky voice. “Now go back to your party. Just let me look at you one more time.”

He grabs your face by your jaw with his thumbs on your cheeks where he is, again, rubbing ever so softly. He was so close to your face you could see yourself in his electric green eyes. “You’re just.. I just… Can I…” He stutters, relinquishing any hope of putting a sentence together, as firmly presses his lips into yours.

You wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in tight. His soft tongue gently probes through your parted lips and wrestles with yours. Dean lets out a small low breath and pushes his face just far enough away so you couldn’t reach his lips and whispers “Wow.” He takes a couple steps backward, looks you up and down, and again grinningly says “Wow.” He smiles, gentlemanly bows, tucks his left hand in his pants pocket and strolls casually away.

You hadn’t said a word. You stood shocked in a silent happiness you had never felt before. You felt warm inside but had goosebumps. You felt like you were floating but had never been more grounded. You felt scared but had never been more safe feeling in your life. You just had your first kiss with Dean Winchester and it was like a literal fucking fairytale.

You weren’t sure where to go from here. Do you chase him down? Or do you play the slow game? You needed to tell someone what happened. You wandered back into the party to find Sam. He was awkwardly grinding with a girl you knew from high school. “Excuse me. Emergency.” You say tapping rapidly on his shoulder, which you could more easily reach in your heels. The music was loud and Sam was distracted as you could tell by the white knuckle grip he had on the dancing girls’ hips.

Frustration sets in you politely shove the dancing girl, by her ass, away from Sam and he turns to see who has ended his fun.

“He did what?!” Sam exclaimed outside of the tent sitting on the smoker’s bench. Neither of you smoked but this was the only place with seating that wasn’t inside the loud tent. “And he didn’t try to have sex with you?”

“Um, obviously not because I’m sitting here talking to your gigantic ass. What do I do? Should I find him? Should I kiss him again? Is it weird to ask the guys’ brother you want to bang for advice before you bang him?” You joke.

“Ya, it’s a little awkward but were a unique situation. What happened with your date, by the way? You’re all over that guy and now you’re kissing Dean? I’m seeing a new side to you, Y/N.” He joked, unintentionally avoiding the conversation.

“Well you were absolutely zero help.” You get up to walk away. “Oh and by the way, she’s a major exhibitionist. She got caught having sex in high school like 5 times. Take her somewhere public and you’re golden.” Poor Sammy needed to get laid more often. You figured a little advice couldn’t hurt.

You stopped back by the table where Max was sitting to grab your clutch. He was in the middle of talking to a couple friends but he excuses himself and steps over to you. “Where did you run off too? I thought maybe we could talk.”

“Actually, Max, I’m flattered but I’ve really got something I need to deal with.” You turn to walk away but he grabs your arm tightly.

“Do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.” He hisses through his teeth. You got the feeling that he didn’t get denied very often. “That farm boy can wait.” Tightening his grip, he pulls you in for a forced kiss.

“Stop, Max, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He’s strong and he was hurting you. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Where are your little fighting moves now?” You start to struggle but he’s much stronger than you.

A familiar voice says “Right here” and punches Max in the face, knocking him down to the floor.  Sam to the rescue.

 


	6. The Wedding: Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.

_ After knocking out Max, Sam’s bruising knuckles needed a little liquid pain killer. You, Sam, and his date took a tray full of shots, danced liked fools, and small talked the night away. The shock of the fights (and the alcohol) seemed to block out the thoughts of Dean. Not that you had any idea what you’d say to him anyway.  _

Dean sat on the couch inside the cottage hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees, clutching a whiskey tumbler in between his hands. He pulls the glass into his left hand and runs his right hand through his hair, letting out a raspy growl. This feeling was foreign to him, his nerves uneasy. 

The front door opens and he looks up through his eyelashes to see you walk in, heels in hand, make-up smeared down your face, hair just slightly out of place, and he smiles at your drunken imbalance. You start to stumble and jumps up to help.

“Whoa, whoa, someone had some fun, I see.” He swings you up into his arms, carrying you over the threshold to your bed. 

Dean gently lays you down on the bed as you slurred things like “You’re so pretty.” and “You smell like a lumberjack.” to him. 

“And you smell like a saloon. Let’s get you into bed, crazy.”

“I just need one more, Dean. Have one more drink with me”, you beg. He walks out the door and comes back in a couple minutes later with two cups of coffee. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you the perfect profile view of his sturdy jawline, and hands you the mug.

“Cheers.” Clinks his mug to yours, taking sip of the warm liquid.

Under the down comforter, you sit indian style leaning back on the headboard. You take a sip of coffee and thank him.

“So, I’m pretty tanked. I should’ve came back here sooner. Max tried to-“  Dean interrupts.

“-don’t. It’s fine. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have done it. You’re with Mr. Rich and I shouldn’t have done it, so forget about it, OK?” He pushes off the bed and steps toward the door.

“Dean, wait, you didn’t – “

“Save it, alright? We can’t do this. It’ll never work. I can’t be a boyfriend. Love doesn’t work with this job.” He interrupts again. His voice is unlike you’ve ever heard; mournfully wistful. The image of a normal life fading from his heart.

You quickly crawl to the end of the bed just catching his arm before he walks out the door. You stop him and he turns to face you.

“God damn it.” You pull him down and jam your lips to his. “- Let me finish what I was saying”. Your lips still hanging closely to his, you grab his suit collars with both hands and pull him on top of you. His hesitancy fades as he gives into your kiss and slips his tongue softly into yours. You feel his body relax into yours, he runs a hand behind your head, pulling you deeper into his lips. His other hand slide under your dress and onto your ass, groping firmly.

Your lips only part to take short, lustful breaths. Dean’s bring his hand out of your dress and onto your hip. He runs his hand up the curve of your side and stops on your jawline.

He pushes up and looks into your eyes. “We can’t do this right now. This isn’t how I want it to happen.”

“Dean, no, please.” You wanted him to rip that stupid dress off of you and ravage you.

“Y/N, you’re drunk.” He says.

You laugh, “But aren’t all the girls you sleep with drunk?”

“Yeah, most of the time.” He joins in on your laughter with a small chuckle.

“Well, then why am I any different?” You question. Sneaking in another small kiss on his lips.

Still cradling your head, he presses down a deep, intense kiss onto you. He rolls off of you and again sits on the edge of your bed. “Because.” He takes a long pause and deep breath. “Because I… I…, you just are, ok?” He stands to leave. “Finish your coffee. You’ve got an early morning.”

‘Early morning? Shittt… the wedding.” You fall back onto the bed in a small tantrum. You had 6 hours of sleep before you had to be up to start getting ready. “This day is going to suck.” You whine.

“Well, get some sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” As he turns to leave Sam falls through the front door lip locked with his date and beer in hand.

“Oh good, you’re up. Yeah, I need the room.” Sam was drunker than you had ever seen him.

“Yeah. Sure. Great. I’ll just take the couch.” Dean growls through a sarcastic smile towards Sam’s date.

Dean was still standing in your doorway, Sam pushes past him and says “I’m sure Y/N won’t mind if you sleep in here with her. It’s a big bed. You’re both adults.” He shoots you an obvious wink. “Plus, you know I like to get thirsty after…. Activities and it’d be a shame to wake you.”  

_ Drunk Sam is awesome. You had to remember to send him a fruit basket or something _ .

“I don’t mind.” You put on your smuggest smile and pat the bed next to you.

“Fine.” He watches Sam and his date stumble into what used to be his room and slam the door behind them. “My clothes…are in there” his voice trailing off as he knew it was a lost cause. “Sweet. Now I get to sleep in a dress shirt.” He says tagging at his collar.

“Dean, I’ve seen you shirtless before. Don’t play coy with me. Take it off, Winchester.” He begrudgingly shakes out of his jacket and unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt. He starts unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom and when he reaches the top it falls open to expose his flat, toned stomach. His pants sitting snugly on his hip bones, you couldn’t help but lick your lips.

Dean smiles cockily at you. He stares into your eyes and unbuckles his belt. He whips it out of the belt loops and tosses it. His fingers work on the button and zipper of his slacks, they fall to the floor. Stepping out of the pants he heads toward the bed. You pull down the comforter, exposing the sheets, and watch as he collapses flat on his back next to you. You move closer to him and he pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Your head fits perfect on his chest.

It was difficult to pretend to sleep as you listened the animal noises coming from the second bedroom of the cottage. You couldn’t help but break the silence in your room with a giggle. “Wow… they are really going to town in there.” Your hand that was placed on Dean’s navel starts to explore more southern territory.

He inhales sharply as your wondering digits slide over the opening of his boxers. He sucks in his bottom lip before he says “Y/N, stop.”

His erection quickly comes to life under your palm and he warns you again “Y/N, stop.” Of course, you don’t listen.

The arm wrapped around you moves up and grabs a handful of your hair, while the other traps your roaming hand. He grasps your wrist and pins it to the bed as he rolls on top of you, your hand still entwined in his fingers. He drops his body weight down onto you and his stern eyes meet yours. “I said, stop. Why can’t you listen? Just once. Listen. Please.”

“I literally never imagined I’d have to beg you to fuck me, Dean. Like not in my wildest dreams did Dean Winchester ever turn me down…  _ or any girl for that matter _ .” Not a second after the words left your lips, did you want to take them back. His fingers relaxed in hair and he pushed up off of you.

“Did you ever stop to think that you were fucking different? Maybe I didn’t want to just fuck you, Y/N? No. You didn’t because Dean is just a man whore, one night stand, love and leave him kinda guy, right?” He was throwing back on his dress shirt and slacks as he ranted. When he was semi-dressed again he opened the bedroom door “I’ll just take the motherfucking couch.”

The door slamming makes you cringe.  You and your stupid fucking mouth.


	7. The Wedding: Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hate summaries. Stuff happens. :)

The only thing you had done since Dean stormed out was change into a tank top and pajama shorts, throw your hair up into a messy bun, and collapse onto your side, curling into the comforter.

“DAMN IT, SAM! PANTS! NOW!” you hear Dean growl. You can’t help but smile at the muffled commotion in the living room. Sam’s laugh fills the living room, followed shortly by a whispered conversation (that you desperately strained to hear), and the other bedroom door shutting.

It quiets down as you lay staring at your door, practically begging it to open and for Dean to come back to lay with you. You whisper all the curse words you can think to call yourself and bury your head into your pillow to vent. Just as you start your stifled pillow therapy, your bedroom door whips open. Dean stands in the doorway, hand still holding the handle. His dress shirt is tucked in, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his slacks are still snug in all the right places. He takes a few steps into your room and grabs your old sweatshirt from the pile on top of your suitcase and tosses it at you. “Take a walk with me.”

You don’t even have time to be embarrassed. You hop up, throw on the sweatshirt, and slide into some flip flops. Dean leads you out the front door of the cottage without a word, his face stoic and stern. You barely let his foot hit the cobblestone path at the bottom of the steps before you speak. “Dean, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” You pause and run your hands over your face.

“I had a lot to drink. We both know I’m awful with words when I’m sober. I’m just…” Your eyes fall to the ground as you pause again.

Dean’s eyes widen as he waits for you to continue speaking. “You’re just, what?” he practically growls.

“Embarrassed. Sorry. Sexually frustrated. So in love with you that it makes me physically ill. Kinda Hungry. Tired. Dizzy. Take your pick.” You speak so quickly that only half your words were heard.

“What was that?” Dean questioned.

“Tired? Dizzy?”

“Before that.”

“Kinda hungry.”

“Ah, fuck, you know what I mean.” His frustration takes over as his hands grip firmly on your shoulders, pulling you into his parted lips. His tongue meets yours in a delicate wrestle. Your arms encircle his neck as his fall gently around your waist. His lips are so soft, his tongue so talented as it tangles with yours. He pulls away and rests his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. You feel him fumbling for something in his pocket, eventually pulling out his cell phone.

“Wanna do something I’ve never done before?” Your eyes must’ve glazed over with lust because he quickly replies, “Dance with me, perv?”

You nod, slightly embarrassed at your previous train of thought, as the music begins to play a familiar song.

_ Oh, my love, my darling _

_ I’ve hungered for your touch _

_ A long, lonely time _

Dean pulls you in close, bear hugging around your shoulders. Dropping your arms around his waist, you bury your face into his chest, ear to his heart. Your feet quietly stepping to beautiful melody, Dean pecking kisses into your hair.

_ Time goes by so slowly _

_ And time can do so much _

_ Are you still mine? _

You lift your head just in time to catch Dean with his eyes closed, mouthing along with the words. He feels your eyes burning into him, he breaks out into actual singing, casting a knee weakening wink down at you.

_ I need your love _

_ I need your love _

_ God speed your lov _ –

The music stops, leaving Dean crooning the lyrics acapella. “Well, my phone died.” You both laugh, but don’t let go of each other. “You get the idea.”

“Yeah, that was pretty magical. I can’t lie.” You tease but the words were serious. You feel as if you’re floating, on a high you can’t come down from.

“That was a real Swayze moment, wasn’t it?” His smile is so infectious, you can’t help but mirror it.

“Oh, god. How long have you had this idea holstered?” You pull away smiling, but Dean immediately laces his fingers into yours.

He tosses his head back with a deep laugh, “Ah, only since… 1990? About a day after I saw Ghost.”

You two casually strolled through the garden hand in hand, talking about old movies, music, and essentially anything that crossed your minds. You never before had a chance to be so carefree around Dean. You and the boys were always on a case, or researching one, and didn’t have the luxury of time for daydreaming. His eyes are different as you walk through the paths of exotic flowers and plants, shining a little brighter. Occasionally he pulls up your joined hands and kisses the back of yours, casting a sideways smile. You spot a bench down the path a little, sitting in front of a large fountain. Your feet are tired from the heels you’d been stumbling around in the night before. “A bench!” you sigh in relief. “Let’s sit.”  

Dean lets out a sigh as he sits, dropping his arm around you. You rest your head on his chest as he speaks. “Y/N, I don’t want you to think that I’m not attracted to you. Trust me, it’s taken pretty much all of my effort to not yank down those shorts of yours and go to town on you. I wanted to start things differently with you; not drunk and stupid for once.” He smiles, looking deep into your eyes, the glistening green pools reflecting the stars surrounding you. His hand finds your chin, pulling it to his lips, softly pressing them to yours. “You’re special.”

You blush, staring back at his smiling eyes, as he kisses you gently. You catch a peek of orangish yellow streaks overtaking the sky over his shoulder. “Shit. What time is it?”

Dean peers over his shoulder to see what you were looking at and agrees that it’s time to go.

“Is there a little time for this?” The hand that was resting on your knee slides up your thigh as he crawls on top of you. His chest presses down onto yours as he cups your ass in one hand and puts the other behind your neck, propelling your mouth to his. His tongue wrestles with yours, a lustful battle for dominance. He laughs into your lips as you try to unbuckle his belt. “Later, baby. You gotta get ready for this shindig.”

“Ugh, fine. But it’s happening tonight.” You threaten him with your eyes, breaking into a cheesy smile.

“Alright, it’s a date. I’ll make it special, I promise.” He hops off of you, offering you a hand.

Again you join hands and head back toward the cottage. When you finally get back to your room you see you have a little over two hours before you need to be up, so Dean lays down and cuddles up with you until you fall asleep.

What feels like only minutes later, Dean shakes you awake when his phone alarm goes off. You reluctantly roll off of him and hop into the shower.

You’re sudsing up your hair as the bathroom door opens, sending a cold chill throughout the room. Dean says, “I really gotta take a leak. You mind?”

This had happened on multiple occasions during motel stays, so you were used to it. Every time you’d roll your eyes but secretly hope he’d hop in with you. You shut your eyes and your hand finds your clit as you imagine Dean’s hard, wet body pressed up against yours and his muscular arms pinning you up to the shower wall arm as he thrusts into you, growling and groaning. You feel the edge of climax building as the shower curtain rips open. With your eyes locked shut, you freeze at the sound of Dean’s voice. “Just at the sound of my voice? Wow. I wonder what this will do to you then?”

You peek open one eye and see Dean stepping into the shower, completely and beautifully naked. He immediately embraces you, pulling your neck to the side so he can tease it with his tongue. You finally let out a breath. “Fucking finally.”

Feeling his erection push up against your stomach, you grab a hold and stroke the length. You had always imagined what it would look like and it’s more perfect than you’d ever imagined: just long enough, but perfectly thick and straight. You start to kneel down to it but Dean stops you. “Ladies first. You were kinda patient last night so you deserve it.” He pulls your leg up onto the shower ledge, exposing your wet folds, as he squats down. His hands run around to your ass, pushing you forward onto his powerful tongue, licking and nipping at your clit. His eyes look up at you from below your navel and you feel him smile as he curls a finger inside of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly. Dean licks and rubs feverishly away at your pussy, only withdrawing his mouth to let out a lustful growl, until your walls collapse around his finger. He stands up, wipes his mouth and presses his lips to yours. Tasting yourself on his tongue, you take hold of his throbbing dick and start stroking it again.

“I’m not gonna be long, sweetheart.” He shrugs. “It’s been a while.”

“Dean Winchester, don’t you lie to me. You met ‘Misty’ the other day.” You playfully palm him with a grin.

He laughs. “I knew you heard that. But, no, I didn’t. We came straight here.” Looking down at your hand, he bites his lip and slightly drops his head back. While his eyes are shut you kneel down and take him into your mouth, licking around the tip before wrapping your more around the girthy shaft. He rolls his hips into you, nonverbally begging for more pressure. Stroking the base of his cock, you swirl your tongue around him, thrusting him quickly in and out of your mouth. He wasn’t lying; it didn’t take long for him to announce he was about to come. Releasing him from your mouth, you watch as his come sprays across your breasts. His eyes widen and snap shut as he pulses his load onto you. 

“Fuck,” he growls, “and that was just your mouth.” 

You turn away from Dean, letting the water wash away the sticky mess on your chest, and feel calloused hands sliding around your waist. 

“You know that I lov---” 

You interrupt him. “Shh… I know.” 


End file.
